


Liquid Gold

by UnderWickedSky



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, First Time Blow Jobs, Literally that's the entire fic - talking Ed into giving him a blowjob, M/M, Talking someone into it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29436177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderWickedSky/pseuds/UnderWickedSky
Summary: He’s a prince. Prince Ling Yao.And princes get what they want.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Ling Yao
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	Liquid Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VanHan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanHan/gifts).



> Ling and Edward are aged up to 18, otherwise everything else is the same and this happens during the time they're staying in the hotel in Central. Somewhere around Episode 20ish.
> 
> Warning: true dubcon.

He’s a prince. Prince Ling Yao.

And princes get what they want, especially princes of larger clans.

Mostly what Ling wants is immortality, but then:

A crown.

A full belly.

Entertainment.

Good company.

Some of that is easier to find in Amestris, some of it is harder. 

Things have not been dull since the moment he arrived; certainly not. Edward and Alphonse had been worthy opponents for his bodyguards, a show which had definitely provided Ling with ample entertainment although it had terrified the townspeople around him. One lady had been crying right next to him, worried that these "foreigners" might destroy her shop.  


The Elrics are good people, but they are often not very considerate of what random civilians might think about their frequent (public) (destructive) fights.

So not lacking in entertainment. Incidentally, the goal to have a full belly is also easily achieved, as it’s easy to siphon off a little of that state alchemist money into good meals, which allow Ling and his compatriots to eat as they please with little more than half-hearted complaints about their voracious appetites and the resultant bills.

Immortality is coming, he feels. An eternal crown to follow soon after.

So that leaves him wanting Good Company, in a form that Lan Fan and Fu cannot provide him. It is forbidden for him to have relations with anyone in his service. At least those in the service of guarding him, anyway - it wouldn’t do well for a prince to be murdered by a jilted lover working in their protection.

So he has to look elsewhere, which is hard when he’s kind-of on the run, and without the ability to seduce people by virtue of his rank. At home, all he has to do is smile at a girl. Here, it’s a little more complicated. 

But...sometimes complicated is fun.  


* * *

Ling thinks Winry is very pretty.

He thinks about her quite a bit as he drifts off to sleep in uncomfortable and awkward places. Her long hair, her blue eyes. Her slender but strong body. All nice. She could be a queen, maybe, if she was Xingese. He jerks off to thoughts of her a couple of times. Once to a photo Edward had tucked into his journal of the three of them. That had been amusing, to slide it back between the pages afterwards, knowing what he had just done.  


He might sleep with her later, if he can, but he’ll have to be careful. Hurting a hair on her head would bring down the full wrath of the Elric brothers upon his royal personage. 

But therein lies both the problem and the solution. If the Elric brothers are doing the protecting, **then who is protecting the Elrics?**

Edward is the obvious candidate for _Good Company_ , as it were. Perhaps Al has the more accommodating personality. He’s a romantic. He’s sweet and kind. Maybe would be easy to seduce, since he’s certainly more agreeable than Edward. Unfortunately, he also doesn’t have a flesh and bone body, which would make any dalliance with him likely uncomfortable and one-sided at best.

Edward on the other hand is young and very handsome, even when he’s angry about something. He’s intense and very focused. He’s also easy to bait, because he’s insecure and in many ways, quite childish.

And truthfully, Ling has never seen hair that colour before. 

Not blonde - gold.

Gold is for kings.

Ling will one day be emperor. It just makes sense.  


“So when do you think you’ll have a growth spurt?” asks Ling one evening. He’s lying on Alphonse’s bed in the Elrics' hotel room. It has yet to be used by the man in question. Ed is over on his own, nose buried in a book as usual. Ling likes that about him too. He’s smart. Studious. Dedicated. All good qualities that are ultimately irrelevant in this particular situation.

“Who are you calling smaller than the broken grains of rice you find in the bottom of the bag?” snaps Edward, without looking up.

“No one,” says Ling, “But I was wondering if you think you’re gonna get any taller.”

Edward’s eyes come up to meet his, steady and intent. It gives Ling shivers to be at the other end of that gaze. “Of course I will, I’m just temporarily delayed.”

“Delayed by what? You’re eighteen.”

Edward scowls at him. Ling can practically see the ticker going behind his eyes, counting down until he explodes, “If you must know, we have a theory about that.”

“Oh?”

“That since Al’s body probably exists elsewhere, something must be supporting it. And since he and I are linked by the human transmutation we tried to do, that something must be me. So there’s less energy for my own growth - it’s being siphoned off.”

Ling can’t help but snort. Edward sits forward a little, slightly aggressively, and snaps, “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know, just your justification for why you’re, ah, below average in that department. Seems unnecessary.”

“Does it?” says Edward darkly, and Ling suddenly gets the impression that he is treading on dangerous ground. 

Time to deliver the first blow, “Well, yeah. I think you’re lovely as you are.”

It successfully knocks Edward off balance - almost literally, as his eyebrows go up and his head moves back a little, “What?”

“What’s wrong with how you look now?”

“I - uh --” says Edward. Ling sees his eyes flicker back and forth just a little, unsure, “That’s a weird thing to say.”

“Just calling it as I see it,” says Ling, “You’re very handsome.”

The second blow hits home, clearly, and he watches as Edward’s cheeks flush ever so slightly, before he manages, awkwardly, “Well, thanks.”

It’s sad. He probably doesn’t get too many compliments on his physical appearance. Everyone is too focused on the other things he can do.

Ling rolls himself a little more upright, sitting with his legs crossed, pressing an elbow to his thigh and propping his chin on his palm. He peers at Edward, who seems flustered as he looks back down at his book (as though he thinks the conversation is actually over and ended at that). 

He grins, “Have you ever been with a girl?”

Edward looks back up, eyebrows drawn together ever so slightly, in confusion. The faint line down his forehead is cute. Ling wants to rub it away with his thumb. “Hah?”

“You heard me,” says Ling.

Fully red now, Edward snaps, “Yeah, but why the hell are you asking me this all of a sudden?”

“Just curious,” says Ling. “You spend all your time with your brother, I can’t imagine you get much time to spend with girls.”

“Well, no,” admits Ed. 

“I’ve been with lots,” says Ling.

Flatly, Ed mumbles, “Good for you.” 

He obviously wants the conversation to be over. Too bad for him. He has no idea where it’s gonna go.

“It’s fun,” Ling says casually. He grips both his ankles where they’re crossed in front of him, and rocks back and forth slightly. “You should try it.”

Ed laughs lightly, sounding a little in disbelief, “Are you kidding? You just said that I don’t get much time to spend with girls. You weren’t wrong about that.”

“You can make time,” says Ling.

“I’m a little busy trying to get our bodies back,” says Ed. 

Ling grins. This is going to be so easy. Edward Elric obviously has no defence against this kind of thing. If he can’t transmute it, he doesn’t understand it. The singular focus on one goal is admirable (and relatable), but it does leave him vulnerable to other routes of attack. “I guess that’s true,” Ling says, pressing a hand to his chin with his index finger extended over his mouth, as though thinking, “But I do have to say it’s kind of a waste.”

Edward’s bemused face quickly falls into a scowl, “What is?”

“Not fooling around just because you’re waiting to get rid of the automail.”

“What do you mean?” he asks. Ed’s scowl has softened again into confusion. His face is so expressive. Every thought he’s having is reflected in his features. It’s endearing. 

It makes everything so much easier. 

“Aren’t you curious what it feels like? Sex?”

Ed averts his eyes. His face is still bright red, the hue darkening by the second, “Well, of course I am.”

_Of course he is._ Ling has to swallow down the feelings of excitement that rise at that, has to try to ignore the fact that his pants are starting to feel just a little tight. No sense getting too hasty here. He wants Edward to consent. That’s the only way to really do this. “No need to be embarrassed,” he says, “We’re both guys.”

“Maybe you talk about that shit in Xing,” says Edward, “But not here.”

“No? Just yesterday I heard Mustang’s man talking about a girl he’s seeing. In graphic detail. Graphic, graphic detail. Barry loved to talk about that kind of stuff too. And Mustang himself is supposedly some great womanizer.”

“That shitty colonel? No way.”

Ling smiles and nods emphatically, “Yes way. People talk about it here - well, guys do, anyway - just not to you, I guess.”

Despite the fact that it’s been clear that Edward doesn’t really want to have this conversation from the beginning, he still obviously slouches a little, apparently ready to stew in the fact that he’s an unwanted partner in any discussion around sexual forays. “But hey, that’s probably because they’re all way older than you,” Ling continues.

“Yeah, probably.”

Edward is sitting with his back to the wall, propped up by a pillow. It had charmed Ling to realize that Edward leaves his automail foot bare though his right foot is socked. He wonders if it helps him to fit all his worldly belongings into the small suitcase he carries around with him if he only wears one sock at a time. Or is it because the automail rubbing on the fabric wears it out faster?

Or has he just never thought about putting a sock on a foot that doesn’t feel cold?

“But we’re the same age,” Ling says slyly. “So we can talk about it. What about Winry, huh? Did you ever --”

“No!” blurts Edward, sitting forward, shoulders up and tensed. Oooh, sore spot, as expected. 

“Did you ever _want_ to though?”

“What kind of question is that? We grew up together!”

“Yeah, but when you were a kid she didn’t have those tits.”

Edward looks like his face might split open from the pressure in his head, “Don’t talk about her like that, you fucking trash prince!”

“Okay, okay,” Ling puts up both hands in surrender. “So Winry is off limits. What do you think of Lan Fan, though?”

Edward just splutters incoherently.

“I’m not allowed to fuck her, it’s so disappointing,” sighs Ling, “Rules are rules. But she’s hot, right? Don’t you love a girl who could beat you up?”

“No!”

“I was with this girl once. She was a martial arts champion, and let me tell you: her body was… ah. Curves in the right places, muscle in the rest. She squeezed my face with her thighs so hard I thought I might kick the bucket.”

“No you didn’t,” mumbles Ed. “Why would she have her thighs on your head anyway unless you were fighting?”

It takes everything Ling has not to laugh in his face. 

Instead, he tries to sound understanding, “Oh, yeah. You know what girls’ parts are like, right? You’ve read anatomy books.” At Ed’s shaky nod, he continues, “So what you wanna do is get your dick inside them, but there’s stuff you can do to make them feel good too. For instance, they really like it when you use your mouth on them.”

“Like a blowjob?” asks Edward hesitantly.

“Yeah, exactly!” Ling grins, “They have all the same nerve endings, just in a different configuration.”

“Ah.”

Ling swings his legs down to place both feet on the floor and leans forward a little. “So if you lick and suck them just right, they’ll come. I know what you’re thinking - girls don’t ejaculate - but they sure can come."

“Good to know,” says Ed weakly.

“Have you ever had a blowjob?” Ling asks him, knowing already that the answer is no.

“None of your business.”

“Would you like to try one?” Ling says, and he stands, slouching onto one hip, both hands on his waist. He sees Edward’s eyes rip up the length of his body from the floor to his face. He’s clearly not sure if Ling is being serious, or if he’s being made fun of. Poor boy. No experience with his peers at all. It leaves him so open to being taken advantage of.

Ling takes the four steps from Alphonse’s bed to Edward’s. He puts his knee atop the mattress, leaning forward over him.

“What are you doing?” Ed blurts. Ling puts down a hand at Edward’s side and looms over him. Wow, he’s so cute like this.

He could easily hit Ling, fight him off, if he wanted to, but the conversation has him on the back foot and unsure of what to do in such a scenario. His face had never drained of color, so it’s a bright pink that offsets the pale gold of his hair and his eyes in a unique and beautiful way. 

“You deserve to feel good too,” he says.

He can see the realization, just like everything else, in Edward’s face. His eyes go wide, and suddenly he scrambles back, away from Ling, only to meet the headboard of his bed. “But we’re both men,” he chokes out.

“Even better,” says Ling, “Because then it doesn’t count for anything. You’re not going to get anyone pregnant. You’re not going to hurt anyone’s feelings or make anything too complicated. And… it means you’ll have experience in it the first time you do it with the girl you really like.”

He can _see_ Edward think of Winry as his eyes flicker ever so minutely from side to side. Ling puts his other hand down on the other side of Edward’s narrow waist. All he needs is to throw a leg over him and he’ll be straddling him. 

“It can be overwhelming the first time. You wouldn’t want her to think less of you because you can’t handle it. Imagine you wait for years for the perfect moment, and then you screw it all up in the end.”

“But,” says Edward, and doesn’t get any further than that.

Ling presses a hand to his chest and pushes him down onto his back. “Relax,” he says, “I won’t bite.” He grins and sees Edward’s gaze linger on his teeth.

Then he reaches down to Edward’s belt. It’s a thick brown leather thing with the silver chain of his pocket watch attached. Carefully he removes the trinket from Edward’s trousers, then unbuckles his belt.

“Wait,” says Edward, obviously completely bewildered and unsure how to react. “Someone might -- might see us.”

“Al is gone for the night, right? Isn’t that what he said? That he’d stay at the library while you caught up on some sleep. Of course you’ve been reading since he left… you’re no good at doing as you’re told.”

“I --” tries Edward, but Ling is gently lifting the small of his back with one hand while he removes the belt with the other. He places it carefully, silver watch and all, on the nightstand. He pops the button on Edward’s stupid leather pants. He’s really been asking for it for a while, wearing these around. 

“Ling,” says Edward, and a cool metal hand closes around Ling’s. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” asks Ling, feeling a flare of annoyance. After all this talk, Edward is still going to try to make this difficult? What a pain in the ass.

“It’s just -- this is really sudden. I don’t --” it’s so cute how he struggles for the words. 

“It’s fine,” reassures Ling, and starts to peel Edward’s pants down his thighs. He hears the breath catch in Ed’s throat. 

“This is illegal,” he hears, quietly, barely mumbled.

Ling smiles, “So is human transmutation.”

Ed doesn’t say anything else and Ling gets all the clothes beneath his waist off. Like this, he can finally see the spot where Edward’s flesh connects to the metal. It’s beautiful, fascinating, deformed. Around the port, the flesh is scarred and the color uneven, but beneath it, the leg gleams a dark silver. Every line of it is perfectly in proportion, perfectly straight. 

He’s never seen anything like it.

“Quit staring,” huffs Ed, so Ling kisses his knee. It’s slightly cold to the touch - it’s not warm enough in the room to bring the automail to body temperature. He slides his hands up either side of the thigh and kisses up the center of it. He can see the muscle above it shivering, possibly in anticipation, or fear. His fingers meet the skin at the port and ghost along the lines of scar tissue. He hears Edward exhale shakily, and he presses his mouth to his leg as well. 

This part of him is warm, the skin rough beneath his lips. And then suddenly, above that, smooth and silky, his leg perfect and pristine. 

“What are you doing?” Edward asks breathlessly.

“Just enjoying you,” says Ling. He moves his left hand to stroke up Edward’s right leg, up over his hip. 

“Don’t make fun of me,” mumbles Ed.

Ling chuckles, and bites lightly at his leg, squeezing gently with his teeth before letting go and continuing to move up. He sees and feels Ed shift to bring his hands over his face as Ling kisses up the line where his thigh meets his pelvis. 

His cock is half-hard - not surprising given that he has no experience and someone is now kissing his naked body, even if Ling was likely one of the last people he’d expected or wanted to do this. He likes that. That Edward is still so affected. It fulfills a greedy part of him deep inside, the part that wants to own everyone around him.

He wraps a hand around the length of it and Ed squeaks in surprise at the sensation of it. Ling bites at his hip. He’s quite compactly muscular, now that Ling is seeing beneath his clothing; his torso is well filled in with core muscles, the muscles of his legs thick and somewhat defined. 

It stands to reason, perhaps, that hauling around a number of pounds of steel on your chest, arm and leg might result in substantial muscle mass.

How nice. 

He rubs his hand back and forth as he surveys the property beneath him. Ed’s face is largely obscured by his own hands, but the movement had pulled up his shirt and let his sleeves fall back to bare part of his metallic forearm.

Isn’t it delightful that his automail is on opposite sides of his body? Symmetrical asymmetry. 

“Uh,” Ed half moans, half sighs. 

“Feels good?” asks Ling.

Edward mumbles something, but it’s pretty much unintelligible. Ling laughs. He’s so, so cute.

His left hand still working at Ed’s rapidly hardening dick, he reaches up with his right to pull Edward’s left hand away from his face. The expression on his face hits Ling right in the freaking gut, needy and just barely this side of cognizant. He looks like he doesn’t know what’s going on, and all Ling is doing is giving him a slow, gentle hand job.

Ling pushes his hand down into the pillow his head is resting on, firmly, trying to impart the message that Ed should leave it there. He does, when Ling releases it and reaches for the end of Ed’s braid.

“Ah,” Ed moans, as Ling twists his hand, “Ah!”

God, what an expression. What is he going to look like later, once Ling has actually wrecked him? He pulls the tie from Edward’s hair, flicking it away into the room somewhere, and dragging his hand through the golden strands of the plait, pulling it apart with his fingers.

“Why,” manages Edward. 

“Your hair is like liquid gold,” Ling observes, rather than explaining. He’s always been partial to hair with a texture like this. Black silk like waterfalls is what he covets. Edward’s is like sunlight spilling over his pillow, his bed. Perfect.

He can see in Edward’s face that he’s getting close. His eyes are going slightly crossed. That’s no good.

He lets go of Edward’s cock then, letting it spring back to lay against his abdomen. “Ah?” gasps Ed, looking down at his own junk as though he doesn’t understand what had just happened. His hand comes down immediately, probably to touch himself, to finish himself off, but Ling slaps it away.

“What are you doing?” wonders Edward, sounding frustrated. His eyes are on Ling’s face. He looks...betrayed. How adorable.

“I offered you a blow job,” says Ling, and sits up. He pushes a hand down on either side of Ed’s pelvis, his palms pressed against hip bones that jut out ever so slightly from his pelvis, and pushes him down into the bed as he lowers his head to touch his lips to Edward’s cock. He hears the intake of breath from the other man as he does, a quiet, surprised sort of sound as he parts his lips and brushes the underside of it with his tongue.

His cock is all the way hard now, and leaking at the tip - salty precum which Ling licks from him. Edward makes a little noise of discomfort or pleasure - hard to tell which, and he sucks it back down into his mouth. Ed’s dick isn’t small, not particularly, but it is reasonably proportional to his height, which is to say, below average.

For Ling, this is a good thing. He doesn’t mind sucking dick, though he prefers women, but it’s certainly easier when he’s not choking on the damn thing. With Edward, it’s a comfortable mouthful, which makes it more than enjoyable to tease the length of it with his lips, teeth and tongue as Ed squirms beneath him.

It’s a wonderful view of the other man spread out before him. His skin is pale, but still with the same golden undertone. Ling wonders what he would look like with more sun - if he didn’t keep himself all covered up to hide the automail and stay out of the heat. Like a man made all of gold, maybe.

The imagery of it is not lost on him. Edward has two iron limbs, but he is made of gold. He’d committed one alchemic taboo - human transmutation. He is the personification of the other - the transformation of lead into gold.

So, Edward Elric is altogether a sin.

“Ling,” moans Edward. “Ling, I’m gonna.”

Oh how cute. Less than three minutes.

Far from disappointing, Ling finds that sexy. He can feel his own erection, trapped in his pants, leaking against his thigh. It’s been a while since he’s gotten to enjoy himself and he’s worked up already.

Edward covers his face again, which is annoying, so Ling pops off his cock, sitting up to hover above his face, pulling his hand away again as he uses his hand to finish him off. Like this he gets to watch Ed’s face, greedily absorbing it all as his face creases in pleasure, as he tips his head back in ecstasy, his hair falling back off his cheeks. His eyes almost cross before he screws them shut, his mouth opening wide, the tendons in his neck coming into tension.

He comes all over his stomach as Ling keeps up the relentless pace, choking on his own breath as he desperately tries not to scream. The image is so intensely erotic that Ling feels his stomach flip, with force. 

“Good boy,” hums Ling against his cheek.

“I’m not,” mumbles Ed, but doesn’t manage any more than that, because he is obviously too taken aback by the sensations still wracking his body.

This is fun, thinks Ling. This is Good Company and Entertainment all rolled up into one tight little package.

For a while he lets him just lie and breathe, lets him come down from the high. He can’t help but mull over what he’s going to do next as Ed catches his breath. He wants...everything. But he cannot do everything in one night. He’ll have to be selective.

“You’re pretty,” he says.

“I’m not,” says Ed, stronger this time.

“Tell yourself whatever you like,” says Ling, “It doesn’t change the truth.”

Quickly he shifts back, a little away from Ed, and with a strong hand, hoists him up into a seated position. He still looks dazed, and goes without much of a fuss as Ling more or less shoves him from the bed and down onto his knees. The automail makes a thunk as it hits the floor. From there he’s able to sit on the edge of the mattress and look down at Ed’s face between his thighs. He’s of course still lobster colored, his face damp from exertion. Some strands of gold stick to his forehead as he blinks slowly, probably trying to clear the post-orgasmic haze from his mind.

“God, you’re fucking _pretty_ ,” says Ling again. Then he pushes down his pants.

“What are you doing?” asks Ed, sluggishly at first but with the end of the sentence peaking up to panic towards the end, going cross eyed as Ling fishes his own throbbing cock from his underwear. Seeing it over Ed’s face causes a spike of arousal and pleasure to go through his gut. God he wants to put it inside him so badly. He wants to see him full of it. Wants to stuff him so that he feels every inch of him inside.

“Suck it,” says Ling.

“What?” says Ed, “No!”

“Why not? I did you.”

“I don’t want to,” snaps Ed, and starts shifting to get himself into a better position to push back and get Ling off of him. 

“But Ed,” says Ling, laying a hand atop his head. His hair is so soft, “I did you. Don’t you believe in equivalent exchange?”

Ed pauses. Freezes, more like, his metallic hand on Ling’s knee, ready to shove him off.

“Don’t you?” Ling repeats. “Don’t you owe me?”

“No,” whispers Ed, “You wanted to do that. I let you. That was the exchange.”

Ling chuckles, “Please. Ed. People do this for one another. I know you’re inexperienced but that’s how it works. I do you. You do me. That’s equivalent. Even people who aren’t alchemists understand that.” 

Ed frowns up at him, debate clearly warring in his face. He looks like he’s trying to calculate the value of each item and compare them: receiving what had amounted to little more than two minutes of Ling’s mouth, versus having to suck Ling’s cock, something he’s likely never wanted to do nor really thought about. 

What Edward likely doesn’t know - maybe _can’t_ know - is that the two sides are certainly not equal. Where Edward had come fast because of his inexperience, Ling has had his dick sucked on many occasions, and is likely to need quite a bit more to get enough stimulation to actually come.

Plus, Ling’s cock is just a _little_ bigger, and Edward’s mouth just a _little_ smaller. It’ll be a tight fit.

God he can’t wait. Just seeing him there, kneeling with his face screwed up in indecision and revulsion, looking up at the dick hovering over his face, red tip dripping slowly onto Edward’s cheek, is sexy.

“I don’t want to owe you,” says Edward.

“So suck it. It’s not going to hurt you. You’ll repay your debt at no real cost to you.”

"The cost is that I'm gonna have to put my mouth on you," says Ed, his nose wrinkled.

"Sounds like a bargain to me," says Ling. "How much more have you paid in the past in order to balance the scales?"

There’s a look of trepidation on Ed’s face and he brings his hand up to wipe the precum from his face. “Okay,” he decides.

“Okay?” repeats Ling, and smiles wide. He tries for _friendly,_ as though he hasn’t been thinking for the past several weeks about how badly he wants to make Edward Elric cry on his cock. “You’ll help me come. Fair deal.”

“Fine,” says Edward. “But don’t… don’t tell anyone.”

“Of course not,” says Ling, though he doesn’t intend to keep to any such agreement of silence. In fact, he looks forward to letting it slip “accidentally” to Alphonse in a couple of weeks, in the event that Edward does not consent to doing this again.

He uses his thumb to press down against the top of his cock, directing its head to press against the center of Edward’s mouth.

“Wait,” says Edward, for what feels like the three hundredth time tonight. The word moves his lips over the head of Ling’s dick. It sends shivers up his body. God, if that’s what _that_ felt like, he can’t wait to feel the whole thing. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Just open your mouth, it’s pretty simple,” breathes Ling, feeling the friendliness of his smile slip into something a little more sinister.

Edward does so tentatively, and, cupping the back of his head to keep him still, Ling immediately sinks in, all the way to the base of his cock. Of course, every action has an equal opposite reaction, which is to say that Ed chokes. Immediately. Ling pulls back, but only half way, and enjoys the feeling of him coughing and fighting to get himself back under control from a position halfway down his tongue. 

The golden eyes are glaring up at him. “Sorry,” says Ling, “But I didn’t realize how bad you’d be at this.”

Ed’s eyebrows come down a little in the center. 

“Try to relax,” he says, and pushes forward again.

This time, Edward doesn’t choke, although when Ling reaches the back of his throat, he can feel the convulsions of him holding it back, or trying to, anyway. How nice. His gut twists. 

It is as good as he’d hoped, hot and wet and tight, as the head of his cock rubs against the roof of his mouth. The inexperience is obvious, his tongue sliding around with the motions of Ling’s thrusts, any kind of suction completely missing from the equation as Edward allows himself to be face fucked. 

Ling sinks his hand into the long blonde hair at the back of his head, clenches his fingers hard enough in the strands that it has to hurt, and forces him deeper, until Ling is bottomed out again and Edward’s airway is blocked.

“Hold it,” he growls to him. “Hold it, Edward. I took all of you.”

Ed makes a choking, wet sort of noise, unable to use his vocal chords with his throat stoppered off. His eyes come up to meet Ling’s again, this time with _fear_ in them, just for a moment. They’re wide and reflective enough that he can see his own reflection in the shiny surface, and Ling has to let go of him and allow him to pull back in order not to come prematurely and ruin the entire rest of his plan.

“Geez,” he says, as though it had been subpar, removing his hands quickly from Ed and scratching at the back of his own neck. Best to pretend like he hadn’t nearly unloaded into Edward’s willing mouth five seconds earlier, “You really haven’t done this before.”

“What the hell,” croaks Edward, with an absolutely fucked out, rough voice. “What the hell was that? Why were you so violent?”

Ling laughs lightly, “Can’t take it, Fullmetal? You’re not as tough as I thought you were.”

“I can take it,” says Edward with a scowl, resolute as always. “Let me go again and I’ll show you.”

God, teasing him is so fun. Edward has the perfect reactions to just about everything. Insult him and he’ll come back enthusiastically, searching for approval. It’s cute, like a dog that’s been kicked returning to its master, hoping for proof that this time it has been good. 

Poor little prodigy. Doesn’t like it when he’s not good at something. 

“Go for it,” says Ling, judging that it’s been long enough that he’s escaped from the edge of orgasm. 

Edward does, leaning forward again. His tongue peeks out over his bottom lip as he takes it into his mouth. 

“Suck on it, this time,” says Ling. Edward does, immediately, and with wonderful results. His chubby cheeks hollow, his eyes going half lidded. Ohh, Ling actually might need to stop this again, sooner than he was hoping. Obviously it’s not all about technique. Something about the visual. Or the knowledge that he’s talked the man into it.

He _talked the Fullmetal Alchemist into sucking him off._

He leans back a little, both hands atop the bed, and spreads his knees a little further. Edward dutifully sucks at his cock, kneeling there between his thighs.

Ling grins at the ceiling. 

This is what he deserves. This, and so much more.

He's greedy that way.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm only halfway through Brotherhood, please don't spoil me! (And please excuse any inaccuracies).


End file.
